In The Arms Of An Angel
by Heart Torn Out
Summary: Song is In The Arms of An Angel by Sarah McLaughlin. Song fic since Destiel song fics won on my Poll last week. Kinda abstract. Would you like to give it a shot? Spoilers for Seasons 4 & 5. Oh and yeah, its Destiel.


**So, I had a poll last week or something and DESTIEL SONG FICs won, so, yeah. Here's the first one i cooked up. Someone said the song was poifect Destiel and i listened and i agreed. So here it is.**

**The song is, "In The Arms of An Angel" by Sarah McLaughlin**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Spend all your time waiting  
for that second chance  
for a break that would make it okay

Dean realized a long time ago that no one got second chances. No one bad, that was. And he had waited and waited and finally, someone had grabbed him a pulled him out.

Straight out of hell.

Not that he deserved, not really. Especially not by that certain angel, the one he couldn't take his eyes off of. And he kept waiting for himself to do something, to make it ok that he was released from that place of torture and nothing ever came. Because he secretly knew that no matter what Castiel said, he wasn't good enough.

**There's always some reason  
to feel not good enough  
and it's hard at the end of the day**

He definitely wasn't good enough. Not after all the torture he'd put others through, not after failing Sammy a million times over, letting him get all caught up in that demon blood business with that bitch Ruby. If he had only watched a little better, done his job more efficiently, they probably wouldn't have this problem.

And on top of that, he knew he was broken, not good enough for anyone, not even Lisa. No one could love him. And sometimes it was hard, really hard to realized that he would never be happy, be loved. He would never get to feel that euphoric tenderness that people in love always claimed they felt.

**I need some distraction  
oh a beautiful release  
memory seeps from my veins**

So he just distracted himself from all his pain and self worthlessness. He hunted and lost himself in the game. He risked his life for no reason other than to forget and he didn't care who he was hurting in the process.

And then, he'd just hook up at a bar with some random chick, take her home, feel all that tension and just release it all. He didn't need to know her name, didn't really care, just did it and got out.

Got out so he could go to their motel room and cry silently to himself as memories of hell plagued his dreams. And he had no one to tell, to relate to.

No one.

**Let me be empty  
oh and weightless and maybe  
I'll find some peace tonight**

Sometimes, Sammy wanted to talk, but Dean would have none of it. Let him be empty and weightless, devoid of emotion and feeling. It was easier that way, if he didn't think about any of it, easier to slip into oblivion, so much easier.

No one cared anyway. Not even he did.

And maybe, if he just drank as much as he could and thought about and felt nothing, maybe he'd get some sleep tonight. Maybe he'd get some peace tonight.

**In the arms of the angel  
fly away from here  
from this dark cold hotel room  
and the endlessness that you fear  
you are pulled from the wreckage  
of your silent reverie  
you're in the arms of the angel  
may you find some comfort here.**

Of course, that was before Castiel took him away that first night. It had been unexpected. He had been snatched away from their crappy motel room where he had been curled up in a ball, stuck in the endless horror that was his broken mind, still back in hell, tortured and torturing. He had been plucked up and felt cold air hit his cheek as he was enveloped in warmth and comfort and when he had opened his eyes, he was looking up at stars.

And Castiel was beside him, blinked rapidly, breathing against his cheek and humming a soft tune under his breath.

Because, the angel knew Dean's mind. He knew that Dean was dragged down into his nightmares every night and for the first time in his existence, Castiel was hurting watching a human in pain. So he had decided to stop it.

He had been taken from the mess of his mind, rescued from his silent reverie where he was wasting away. He was now in the arms of an angel, his angel he realized and he finally found some comfort there.

**So tired of the straight life  
and everywhere you turn  
there's vultures and thieves at your back**

Sam was gone. Thrown into Hell's cage and forever gone. And he had gone back to Lisa and couldn't stand it. Baseball games, barbeques, the Apple Pie life was not for him. Humans, he had discovered, were worse than the supernatural, lying and twisting their words to what you wanted to hear. In his time with the Braedons he had come to find that out.

**The storm keeps on twisting  
you keep on building the lies  
that you make up for all that you lack**

Lisa wasn't happy, Ben was no longer comfortable around him. There was no point in staying, yet he had nowhere to go. And he just kept lying to himself, saying that he was alright that he could work it out, that he loved Lisa when it was all a lie, just making up for everything he didn't have.

Like a certain angel that had taken up shop in his mind.

**It don't make no difference  
escaping one last time  
it's easier to believe  
in this sweet madness oh  
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees**

But it didn't make a difference. Like he said, he had nowhere to go. His brother was gone, he had nowhere to escape to. And that was just it. Leaving Lisa's would be escaping. And escaping meant that you weren't happy where you were, that there was something wrong. And that 'something wrong' was always Dean.

So it was easier to believe in the madness of his life now, this horribly sweet and glorious madness of a life he knew wasn't his and would never be, than to go face to face with the want he had for a man with blue eyes and charcoal hair, than to face the fact that he had to move on from Sam's death, than to admit that he hated it here where he was now.

And he just felt so tortured, falling to his knees in Lisa's backyard and screaming in his minds to the Heavens for someone, anyone, although there was a certain someone, to come and save him.

**In the arms of the angel**  
**fly away from here**  
**from this dark cold hotel room**  
**and the endlessness that you fear**  
**you are pulled from the wreckage**  
**of your silent reverie**  
**you're in the arms of the angel**  
**may you find some comfort here**  
**you're in the arms of the angel**  
**may you find some comfort here.**

For what may have been the last time, Dean felt warm arms surround him and support him, flying him away from a life he didn't want and never would. He knew Lisa would be worried but he couldn't really care.

He felt that warmth that radiated from the angel, the angel that understood everything about him, consume him and make him whole. He had thought that that meaningless life would be endless but Cas had just dropped every thing and had come for him.

He had pulled him from that wreckage, the wreckage that Sam's death had left him in, that silent reverie where he was wasting his days, locked up in his mind, dwindling away in his sorrow.

Yeah. He was in the arms of _his_ angel and that made all the difference.

He'd found his comfort here.

* * *

**Yeah. Kinda abstract. But hey, whatever. This is what this song means to me.**

**So review now.**

**XD Please?**


End file.
